The Prompt Experiment
by PolytheneSkin
Summary: A collection of stories, ranging in plot and characters, based off of prompts provided by readers.  Could be fluff, drama, who knows?  It's a surprise every time!
1. Hope Vibrates

This is a fun new idea I had and I really hope it works out well. It stemmed from two of my wants: I want to diversify my writing and get more comfortable with changing up scenarios and characters/pairings, and I want to be able to write short concise stories that still contain everything I want plot-wise (i.e. I want to be able to do short one-shots to just get out ideas). I couldn't think of a good way to do this, because every time I have a good idea I promptly forget it and never write it down, and all my ideas are very similar because there are simply pairings and stories I like, and I stick to what I like.

So this is my remedy for that. Every chapter is going to be based off of a prompt. All chapter will be a singular story, and it will be ended in _only_ one chapter. They're each going to be different stories with different characters in different places. And where will these prompts come from, you ask? Well that's easy...

You're going to give them to me.

This first chapter is off of a prompt I found on the internet, but from here on in, I really want all the prompts to come from people who read and review the stories. This way its not always the stories and characters I'm comfortable with, and it will be a good practice in stepping out of my comfort zone and also in simply writing and being able to get my ideas across. Plus, this is a really fun way to get to know people and involve readers! The 'rules' are at the bottom if you want to give me a prompt, but before that comes the first story!

Enjoy!

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**Prompt: ****Create a story based on this personification: hope vibrates.**

**Submitted by: I found this on the internet. No literally, I just typed in 'writing prompts' on Bing XD**

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**There he was again. That stupid head of silver hair. Those ridiculous blue-green eyes. He was tall, meaning that Sora was never able to miss him in a crowd. Damn him. Damn his hair and his eyes and his height. Damn his perfect face and perfect smile. And that wasn't even the worst of it.

The worst was that whenever Sora laid eyes on that hair, that smile, that perfect face, he couldn't look away. He would start to feel like there was a weight tied to his lungs, making it harder and harder to breathe, harder and harder to move. And then those eyes would notice his own, the smile would grow, and the other boy would make his way over to him. Then his heart would speed up, drumming in his chest, pounding away behind his ribs, making his whole body feel like it was shaking. Shaking with the anticipation of hearing that angel-like voice, maybe feeling that seraphim skin on his own.

Damn him. Damn Riku for making him hope like this, giving him these unreachable dreams.

He wanted to tell him, to just out himself, to just walk up to him and say 'Riku, I think I may be in love with you.' But things weren't that easy. They had just met a few months ago, connected by a mutual friend. Settling quickly into an easy friendship, Sora had barely noticed himself falling for the older boy. But fallen he had, and he was pretty sure he had bumped his head a few times on the way down.

They sat now in a coffee shop, the kind you would think that intellectuals would be found in, writing their poems and thinking their deep thoughts. But really, there were only a few coffee deprived students around, busily finishing homework or reading over papers. Sora and Riku weren't even doing anything that productive, they were just sitting and talking, watching as the hour hand on the clock worked its way around. Sora loved days like this. When he and Riku would just sit and talk about absolutely nothing in particular, wasting away time for no reason than to simply enjoy the others company. He could say anything here, talk about any subject, and Riku would just laugh and put in his two cents on the subject. He never reprimanded Sora for outlandish ideas or crazy topics of conversation; he was always more than willing to simply talk the hours away.

Damn him. Damn his dumb open and caring personality that made Sora's whole body tingle with a happy warmth, from his toes all the way to his eyebrows. Damn the silver-haired menace for making Sora fall in love with him, even though there was never a chance that they could ever be together. Sora's personality, the friend but never the boyfriend, Riku's reputation, the playboy with no thoughts of serious relationships, their fragile friendship only starting, still in its very beginnings, these things made it impossible for them to be together. Maybe later, Sora would hope, when we know each other better, and he's wised up about sleeping around and begins to see me the way I see him, maybe something could happen. And then he would feel that happy warmth start again, his whole body tingling. But it would fade, because he knew that things may never get that far.

"You should really just tell him," his childhood friend Selphie would chide him, "What's the worst that could happen?"

"He could completely and utterly reject me, never speak to me again, and I'll be forced to forever live knowing that the only man I'll ever love can't stand the sight of me." He would mumble forlornly.

"See, that's not so bad! I say go for it!"

But Sora never wanted to take that risk. He never wanted to risk losing Riku, even if it meant he could never love him outright. Sometimes he would be alone, thinking it over and over in his head, and would decide that the next time he looked Riku in the eye he would finally just tell him. But then he would run into Riku, and he would see the boy's blinding smile, hear that beautiful voice, and decide that he was absolutely wrong. There was no way he was not going to see that face again, and he would do nothing to risk losing it.

So they talked, and laughed, and drank coffee with ridiculous names, and made jokes about professors. And Sora loved those times, they were the happiest of his life so far. Every one of those moments left its mark on his heart, but each mark only covered a scar that continued to tear deeper and deeper until he thought he might split and fall apart.

"Sora, are you alright?" Riku asked one day, quite out of the blue. Sora looked at him quizzically.

"Yeah, why?"

"I don't know, you seem distant. Is something on your mind?"

"Sorta…" He confessed, "But I don't really want to talk about it." He took a sip of his mint flavored frappe-cappa-something, "Do I really seem distant?"

Riku chuckled, "A bit. Maybe the coffee just hasn't kicked in yet."

"Maybe…"

A few weeks later Sora ran into Riku outside one of his classes. The older boy made his way through a small crowd of students, locking eyes with Sora so that he couldn't escape. But those eyes didn't have a smile behind them.

"Hey Riku," He said as the other boy finally reached him, "What's up?"

"You haven't been returning my phone calls." Riku said accusingly, hurt, and Sora's eyes drifted to the floor.

"I've been kinda busy lately, I just kept forgetting to call you back." He looked back up at Riku with a shrug, "Sorry."

Riku just stared at him, that accusing look never leaving his eye, "What's up with you? You started acting weird a few weeks ago, now you're avoiding me."

"I'm not avoiding you!" Sora pleaded with him, but in his heart he knew it was a lie.

He _was_ trying to avoid Riku. Because maybe if he eased himself away from the silver-haired boy he would be able to slowly forget the feelings he sensed inside himself every time they were together. He was hoping that Riku would get the hint, maybe simply forget about Sora. They would drift apart, the way people did sometimes. It made Sora hurt each time he thought about it, so he did his best to keep it out of mind.

It wasn't working very well though. He constantly thought about Riku, about how much he missed him, about how much he wanted to feel happy again. It seemed he could only ever be happy when he was with Riku, because these weeks of careful avoidance had made his sadder than he had ever been. Was it worth it? Putting himself through all this? It barely even made sense. He was trying to avoid the pain of rejection by separating himself from Riku, but all that was bringing about was a different type of pain, a pain of loneliness instead of the pain of betrayal. But how could he tell which was worse, without risking everything? But what did he even have with Riku anymore, since he hadn't seen him in weeks?

It made Sora's brain hurt, this thinking around in circles. But he couldn't make himself stop. He couldn't stop dreaming and hoping and wishing. So he just let himself go, let himself get absorbed into his fantasies. Because that was the closest he could ever get to Riku. At least, until the day the older boy cornered him in the library.

Sora was searching the stacks of literature for a book to use with his reference paper. The volume in his hand was just what he had been looking for, but it was suddenly yanked from his grasp. He turned to chastise whoever had rudely stolen his book, but he was forced to take a step back when he encountered blue-green eyes and a head of silver hair. Riku began to leaf through the pages of the book absentmindedly, and all Sora could do was stare at him, wide-eyed and somewhat frightened. Riku didn't look up at him, instead choosing to continue to flip through the book, occasionally stopping at pages he found interesting. After a minute or two his eyes turned up to lock onto Sora's face, but he continued to play with the hardback volume, turning it over and over in his hands.

"Sora, fancy seeing you here." He said quietly, mindful of where they were, but his voice was filled with acid.

"I'm writing a paper…" Was all Sora could think to say. His voice was tiny and nearly silent, even for being in the library.

"I can see that. Why else would you be reading about the feeding habits of toucans? You're not the type to pick that up as a topic for leisure reading."

"Yeah…" He murmured, the joke making neither of them smile. It was too full of sarcasm and malice. He didn't know what Riku wanted. The other boy was being so hostile towards him; his voice, his posture, his eyes, it all held a harsh edge to it. It was so sharp that Sora was afraid it could physically cut him if he got too close. But would it cut his skin? Or maybe his heart?

"So I'm assuming that you've been so busy learning about toucans to hang out," Riku said suddenly, "Or to return my phone calls, or to try to make contact with me in any possible way. You've been acting like I don't exist." His words held onto their bite, but a hint or sadness leaked to them.

"I just-" Sora began to explain, but Riku cut him off.

"Cut it out with the excuses, Sora. You're avoiding me and I want to know why," His eyes narrowed, "_Now._"

Sora stood there, mouth agape as he tried to think of something, _anything_, to say. He felt his hands begin to shake, and his heart thumped erratically under Riku's stern gaze. What could he say? There was no truth he could warp that would fulfill Riku's wishes without giving away everything. He didn't want to lose Riku over this, he didn't want to have to say goodbye in this library.

But then he realized: he already _had_ lost Riku. He had abandoned him, had left his life voluntarily in order to try and protect himself. But it had all backfired, he was even more miserable now than he had even been when he was with Riku and simply hiding his feelings. While trying to escape his feelings, he had lost what he loved most: Riku, his beautiful face and beautiful voice, his lovely eyes and lovely hair, magnificent laugh and magnificent personality. Sora had been so afraid of rejection that he had rejected Riku before the other could do away with him.

But Riku wasn't rejecting him now. Instead, he was fighting for him, he was trying to rebuild what Sora had carelessly torn down. So would it be so bad? Would it be so bad for him to know how Sora felt? If he was willing to look past what Sora had done, how he had tried to destroy their friendship, would he be willing to understand why he had done it in the first place? Would he be willing to know how Sora felt, how he truly _felt _for the silver-haired man? Would he be able to know that Sora…

"What did you just say?" Riku asked, eyes jumping from their narrow glare to wide, shocked saucers.

"I said I'm in love with you." Sora stated again, calmly, "It's why I was avoiding you, I didn't want you to know."

Riku gaped at him now, their positions from a moment ago reversed. Now Riku stood unsure of what to do or say, and Sora stood his ground and waited for a response. His body was buzzing with the tension, knowing that in this moment Riku's decision would change everything. But Riku did nothing, he just stood there, eyes locked on Sora's face, body tense. Sora sighed.

"I'm sorry, that was kind of sudden, huh? I really wasn't planning on telling you like that. I wasn't planning on telling you at all, in fact. But…yeah. Look, I'm sorry I avoided you, I just thought it would be easier that way. Just give me a call sometime, once you've thought stuff over. I promise I'll pick up. If you don't…well…I'll understand." Sora gave him a weak smile and a shrug, plucked his book from Riku's frozen hands, and made his way to the library exit.

Two days later, two agonizingly slow and painful days later, Sora felt his hone vibrate in his pocket. The caller ID said it was Riku. He finally picked up.

**Hope vibrates.**

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Yup yup yup.

I feel like this came out really rushed, but overall I'm happy with it and its fluffiness. Like I said, I want to get better at short stories, and I think this was a good start.

So here are the 'rules' for submitting a prompt to me:

(1) **A prompt can be anything, but keep it short.** It can be like this one: a short phrase, a couple of words, a general idea. It can be a song if you like, but I don't do song-fics, the song will only act for inspiration for the story. You could give me a handful of unrelated words and tell me to use them all in the story. You can show me a picture, either famous or something from deviantArt if you like, and I can base a story off of that. However, if it is a picture, make sure that the artist is alright with it being used as inspiration for fan fiction. Really, anything goes, but do not, I repeat, _do not_, tell me to write a story about so-and-so where they do this and that or go to a specific place. I want something vague to serve as inspiration, not a full fledged plot-line.

(2) **You may suggest a pairing if you like, but it must be within Kingdom Hearts.** I'm stepping outside my little comfort box here, but I'm not ready to take that leap yet :) If you don't want to add a pairing and are willing to leave it up to me, that's fine too. Final Fantasy characters are okay as long as they actually appear in Kingdom Hearts.

(2.5) **I will be keeping this PG-13 and under. **'Nuff said.

(3) **Just because you give me a prompt does not mean I will necessarily use it.** These are not commissions, they are a way to improve my writing while also engaging and involving my readers. I will use the prompts that I think will provide the most interesting stories, or inspire me the most, or that I think will be most beneficial to me. On that note...

(4) **If I do use your prompt, it may not turn out the way you think it will.** This is because I'm not asking for story or plot ideas, I just want general ideas to help inspire me. Therefore, when you prompt me and think it will go one way, my mind may go in the complete opposite direction. So don't think your prompt will give a very specific story, I have no idea where I'm going with these things until I start writing.

(5) **Leave your prompt in the reviews!** Just click on the button to review this story, let me know how you think I'm doing, and then leave your prompt! If its a song please include the artist, I'm not a mind reader. If its a picture, please include a link to it. I'd really like to know if you guys think I'm actually improving as this moves along, or am utterly failing on my mission. So tell me what you think! Also, if you leave a prompt once, don't keep repeating it on every chapter. I read all my comments, so I've definitely seen it. It may be a case of number 3, or I might be saving it to do at a later time. I'd rather see a lot of different, interesting ideas that the same things over and over.

This will be updated periodically as I work on other stories and deal with other real-life stuff like schoolwork. I really hope this works out and doesn't end up being a horrible fail of an idea. So pretty pretty please leave me a prompt! Thanks for reading!


	2. Becoming Mortal

Merry Christmas to everyone, or a general Happy Holiday's if that's your thing. In that spirit, I have to warn you that this is a horrible gift, much like that watering can from Aunt Florence, or the mouse traps from Uncle Steve. Maybe not exactly like that, but you get the point. Its angsty and...stuff, which is new for me, but I guess that's the point of this little experiment, isn't it? Enjoy!

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**Prompt: "A balloon up in the sky, that can't come down unless it shatters, and the child who's stuck on the ground, wishing for it."**

**Submitted By: ****The MiSuNdErStAnDiNg**

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**Axel had it all; the looks, the grades, the personality, the _edge._ He was perfect in every way. Others worshiped him in all his glory, and he knew it. He _craved_ it. He would walk down the halls of the school buildings, acutely aware of the numerous eyes that watched him pass by. He would turn and smirk at the girls crowded around their lockers, high-five the jock that passed him in the hall, stop and chat to the nerd from his chemistry class. He treated them all as equals, but only in comparison to each other. He was above them; he was the idol, and they were the pilgrims bowing at his feet.

Roxas had nothing. He had only ever had one good friend who had moved away two years ago. All Roxas had now were acquaintances, those that he spoke to and acknowledged, and thus acknowledged him in return. But they weren't friends, they were just…people. He was like a mannequin in a store window. They would walk by and look at him, judge him, but then they would turn away and walk on, never really seeing _him_ at all, and forgetting whatever they had seen a brief moment later.

Axel was one of those people, outside the glass looking in, only seeing the outline of Roxas, the shape he presented to the world. Axel never questioned it. After all, he was above the crowds, the squabble, above trying to figure out the true shapes of the people who crowded the halls. He didn't need to divulge their secrets, they would tell them to him. He didn't need to seek out friends; they flocked to him like sheep to a shepherd's call.

Roxas saw Axel, though. He saw the perfection, he saw the flawlessness, the precision of all of his actions. He saw the way Axel would move through the throngs of students, confident in his faultlessness. Roxas would see him smile, see him laugh, see him gracefully navigate around the school as if it was his own personal kingdom. And Roxas loathed him for it.

He wasn't jealous of how popular Axel was, or his looks, or grades. He wasn't even jealous of how easily Axel seemed to make friends. He wasn't even jealous at all. He was just angry. Angry that Axel couldn't see how thin the ice he stood on was, how everything about him was held up by the thin thread of his inflamed ego. He and Roxas were the same, and the only thing that separated them was that Axel believed he was god's gift to earth, and he acted as such. He was subtle about it though, to some extent, so others couldn't see that he was essentially lording his superiority over them. If Axel would ever take a step back and look, really _look_ at his life, he would find that he didn't have any friends, just people who stood around him to be in his presence. And that was the way he treated them.

He and Roxas were so similar in that aspect, that no one really saw them as what they were, only what they wanted to see, what they had been trained to see. And Roxas hated Axel for not realizing this, when he himself was so painfully aware. He wanted to watch as Axel floated high, so high above the others as he craved to do, and then burst, and came crashing down to earth in a flaming wreck.

Why did Roxas want this so badly? Why would he wish for the total and utter desolation of one of his classmate's reputations? He first thought it was simply because he hated the other man. But over time he realized that it was because of another trait that he shared with Axel.

Loneliness.

He wanted Axel to fall, because Roxas knew that when he landed, it would be on the ground that Roxas stood on. His was the level that Axel would crash upon, alone and friendless, his supremacy squashed and those that once stood proudly at his side faded into the shadows. And Roxas would be the only one there to pick him up and clean his wounds.

It was selfish and cruel, but Roxas so desperately wished for it. He was lonely, and he knew that for all his strutting around and confident airs, that Axel was lonely too. Why else would the red-head work so hard to be noticed, to have everyone around him revere him? So, in Roxas craving for Axel to fall from grace, he was really trying to help them both.

Sometimes he would doubt his feelings, his hate and his longing for Axel. Perhaps the older boy _was_ happy with his life, and everything Roxas was seeing in him was a lie. But then, as he would head to his next class, he would catch a glimpse of the red-head, and a stray look in the other's eye would tell Roxas that what he thought was true.

So he waited for the day. The day when Axel realized the perfectly painted lie around him was just that; a ruse, a world sculpted beautifully out of black powder, just waiting for a stray spark. And Roxas would watch as everything blew apart and then burned to the ground, destruction that would leave nothing in its wake except the battered and burnt body of Axel. And Roxas would be there, and together he and Axel would slowly piece that world back together.

That day came when Larxene asked Axel out on a date.

She was in the same year as Axel, and they had known each other awhile. Apparently she thought they were going somewhere, but Axel had laughed her off and said that there was nothing between them. Larxene had been less then pleased, to say the least. She started berating him, demanding that they get serious, but he would never say yes. He had never dated anyone, no one had been up to standard for him, and Larxene was no exception. The problem was, people really liked Larxene. She was one of the school's better athletes for a few teams, depending on the season. She was a good student, got good enough grades, and most of the time she was pretty nice to the other students, if only for civilities sake. She was nothing special, but she was generally known as good person, and thought highly of. So when Axel turned her down, people started to wonder. When he repeatedly refused her, they began to get anxious. And when finally, at an upperclassman's party, Larxene asked why Axel wouldn't go out with her, and he responded that it was because she 'simply wasn't enough', people's nervous anxiety finally erupted into anger.

Roxas heard the rumors spread. Some people said that Axel thought she wasn't smart enough, not pretty enough, not sleazy enough, but Roxas knew it wasn't any of those things. It was exactly as Axel had said, she wasn't enough for him. She wasn't as perfectly god-like as he believed he was, wasn't the object of everyone attention like he was, she simply didn't measure up to his expectation. And his expectation was impossible to measure up to.

So then Roxas simply watched. He watched as Axel fell from his pedestal, as his 'friends' realized that all Axel was and had ever been was a self-obsessed egotistical bastard with no thought for anyone but himself, and rightfully left him to fend for himself. Watched as Axel saw them leave, and believed he had done nothing wrong, and continued to act as if he was still anointed by the heavens. Roxas watched as all the students realized exactly what Axel was; a conceited jerk with no respect for others. He watched as Axel was ostracized from every social group he had ever associated with and looked down upon, which people quickly understood meant the same thing.

And the most beautiful thing, in Roxas's opinion, was when he was able to watch Axel realize that everything he had built up, everything that had kept him floating above the ground, higher that the spires of the tallest building, had been yanked away. He was plummeting to earth now, banished from his heavenly seat and sent in exile to live with the mere mortals. It had happened slowly at first, but then in a rush Axel had realized that everything he had ever held, the glass bubble of his life had been shattered into thousands of tiny slivers, each now imbedded within his skin.

Roxas was delighted.

That wasn't completely accurate. Roxas felt sympathetic for Axel. He too had once been privy to a perfect life. He had friends and happiness. But that had slithered out of his grasp, just as Axel's perfect life had. Roxas was delighted to see that he was no longer alone, that he had someone else who understood his pain, that pain of losing everything that you hadn't realized you cherished. So he would wait. He would wait for Axel to see what he had become, and he would wait for Axel to recognize that he and Roxas were kindred spirits, both having fallen from grace and landed on the cold hard earth, alone in their solitude. But now, that solitude would be banished, for they would have each other.

For now, Axel sat alone, the other students avoiding him as they walked along with their lunch trays and drinks. Axel sat and watched them pass by, those who had once worshipped him so easily, so readily. His eyes gave nothing away, they were cold, hard, and solid, nothing existed within them. But behind them; behind them was a whirlwind of emotion, a tidal wave of hurt and anger and pain and confusion. He watched now, with his pained eyes, the way they whispered and they way they stared, with loathing. He was alone now.

But no, there was one set of eyes that didn't loathe him, a pair of eyes that didn't glare with hatred. Those blue eyes he saw now, they _pitied_ him. And as those eyes recognized they were being seen, the face that held them gained a wicked smirk. That boy, the blond who know looked at him like he knew what was really behind Axel's eyes; his name was Roxas, yes? How could he know? How could he begin to imagine what Axel felt?

Weeks passed. The loathing eyes stopped staring, everyone stopped staring. It was like Axel didn't exist anymore, like he had been forgotten. But that one damn pair of blue eyes kept glancing his way, kept pitying him, kept pretending like they were holding some sort of great secret that Axel needed to know. It was driving him crazy.

"What do you want?" Axel asked him one day, quite out of the blue. Gym class had them running laps around the field, and Axel had pulled the blond menace aside and demanded answers. A sharp whistle blast made them both turn to the instructor, who signaled for them to keep running. Roxas gave Axel a coy smile, and dashed back onto the track. Axel stood stunned for a moment, and then continued his own jogging.

After class, Axel found Roxas quietly standing outside the locker room. The blond gave him a poignant look, and began to walk. Axel followed, intrigued.

"Amazing, isn't it? Roxas asked, and Axel glared at him.

"Isn't what?"

"How quickly life can change. How you were walking on clouds one moment, and the next, everything you know and had is just that; clouds, too high for you to ever reach again."

Axel stopped, and Roxas, a few paces ahead, turned to gaze at him steadily. "Why are you saying this to me? How do you…" Axel's voice faded, and Roxas raised an eyebrow at him.

"How do I what?"

"How do you know?" Axel asked, and Roxas laughed. Axel found that he liked the way it sounded.

"You're not a very vivid speaker, are you?" Roxas teased, and Axel couldn't stop a corner of his mouth from rising in a half smile. "How do I _know_? I don't know anything. But I can see things, I can see you. I saw what you were, how you changed, and what you've become. And now that you're mortal, I think it's time you started fresh."

"Mortal?" Axel repeated, but Roxas had already continued walking. Axel dashed to catch up with him, and began to walk beside the strange blond-haired, blue-eyed boy. '_Mortal ' _he thought to himself, '_Is that what I have become? Have I fallen so far?' _But as he looked down at Roxas, he wasn't quite sure why, but being mortal didn't sound so bad.

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See, wasn't that angsty? I feel like it was, once again, somewhat rushed, as well as depressing. But I really don't mind, because at least I'm trying new things. Let me know what you think! You're probably a better judge than I am. XD Please leave me more prompts, thanks to The MiSuNdErStAnDiNg for this one! I hope I did it justice, let me know if you think it was too far off topic!

Again, Merry Christmas, or a happy whatever-you-fancy in this holiday season!


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